Welcome Back to the World, Iceland
by OnWithTheButter
Summary: December 1, 1918. Denmark asked for a sudden gathering of nations, he had something he needed to announce and wouldn't share details. Directly on the heels of the first world war, it seemed important, so it was taken with the utmost seriousness. What is the news? Oneshot on the independence of Iceland


A tall, blond man entered the large conference room with an uncharacteristic solemn expression, followed very closely by a nervous boy looking about fourteen. Their king ordered them to be punctual, and that meant early, for this was important for settling their peace. The tall man grumbled to himself about how it wasn't fair, nothing was fair, he hadn't done anything wrong, right? Why did this all have to happen? He quickly found a pair of chairs around the still relatively empty table and sat down with the boy, placing a few papers down in front of him that probably wouldn't even be looked at.

The boy, with white-blond hair and serious violet eyes, wore an even graver expression. He looked tired, a little sickly, and angry. He was angry, and also scared. He didn't agree with the situation, but it was a step forward, but what if he was immediately rejected? He didn't recognize anyone who came in and took their place in the room. Obviously, it had been so long, he probably wouldn't recognize them as adults. After centuries of near-complete isolation, all his old friends had to look nothing like what they did before.

"Dan…" he leaned over to the man he came with, whispering, "How much longer till we can get this over with?"

"We still have another ten minutes."

"What's up with you? You're never this serious." His voice was spiteful.

"Ice, I don't want to do this. You know that. Now stop talking to me." The man rolled his eyes and directed his gaze away from the boy. Yes, he was upset. One by one, they left him. Another one was just that close from leaving him all alone again. One last effort on his part bound the one who would leave him to him, but he knew it just irritated the boy. He didn't understand why everyone had to hate him.

Just then, a straight-faced man with glasses walked in, and the boy immediately recognized him. The man recognized the boy as well, furrowing his brow and tilting his head slightly, before taking a seat a little bit away from the two. A much shorter man, who could have kind of passed for a child, came in behind the first man and sat beside him. A short moment later, after the two passed a few quiet words, he taller man bent over the table to get another glance at the boy, and then was copied by his friend, almost as if they didn't believe their eyes, but they didn't speak up.

As he looked around the room again, which had begun to fill up, the boy finally noticed that almost all of the gazes were on him. Whispers were going around, in all different languages, and all seemed to be focused on him. He could understand a few of them: "Who is that?" "Is he why we were called here?" "What's going on?"… He hated the attention.

And then the only other one he could recognize came in, obviously in a hurry as he was almost late, and scanned the room for a place to sit. Once his eyes hit the boy, he had almost the same reaction as the glasses-wearing man, but he hurriedly walked over and took the seat beside him.

"What's going on? Why are you here, li-"

His query was cut off by the boy's harsh "Shh!" and a piercing glare.

The place fell deathly quiet as the clock ticked close to the start time for the assembly. As soon as the minute hand struck the twelve, the man who had come in with the younger boy stood up and cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him.

"Thank you all for coming here today," he began, his voice and face still stone-serious. "I'm sorry for the inconvenient timing, I'm aware that most of you are just coming out of the Great War and are going through the process of treaties and such. Onto the purpose of calling you all… To end decades of strife and revolt, we have reached this decision. I, The Kingdom of Denmark, hereby recognize the independence of Iceland."

On cue, the teen stood up beside him. He took one nervous breath before he started to speak slowly, as if he was untrusting in his ability to make himself understood. "Uh… I am Icel-rather, The Kingdom of Iceland. It is a relieving and happy occasion for me to finally have some sort of real freedom after over six centuries of foreign rule. Uh… We…" Getting flustered and obviously upset, he looked briefly to Denmark to finish what he had to say.

The Dane caught on and explained the rest for him. "Because Iceland has lived so long under Danish rule, and before then, has never had a modern governing system, we have instituted a personal union between the two of us to be renewed in twenty-five years. Iceland is completely independent of myself, except that we share a monarch, my king."

Iceland found the confidence to add onto the official announcement. "Denmark knows this, I don't like the arrangement. I'm perfectly capable of being on my own. I don't know how many of you would remember this, but I had a very successful country until the civil war that ended in me becoming Norwegian territory in the thirteenth century. However, and I will speak honestly because he knows how I feel, the arrangement is better than any previous ones, ranging from practical slavery to the home rule I have had recently, so I'll accept it. Also, I request that Denmark continue to handle foreign relations and defense on my behalf. All I ask of you all is that you accept me as what I now rightfully am, an independent nation…kind of." With that, he sat back down in a huff, crossing his arms.

The man who had come in at the last minute and sat beside him looked at him with a concerned expression. "Ice-"

"Don't look at me like that, Norway," he cut the man off. The whole room turned silent, raptly listening to the impending dispute.

"But-"

"Stop. You know what happened, you know how I feel."

"Brother-"

"I'm not your brother."

"But you are…"

"No one knows for sure. I never felt that way and I don't believe it anymore. I categorically refuse to believe it anymore."

Norway fell as dumbfounded as the rest of the room. Maybe the boy was just upset, this would pass, it had to. Perhaps he didn't know how to handle independence and was breaking off from anyone involved in his foreign rule. Anyway, he still was his little brother.

Several minutes later, the eerie silence was broken by a man with messy blond hair and green eyes. "Uh… Iceland? I remember you. You were a trading partner and decent ally for us around the turn of the millennium. You've changed…"

Iceland directed his eyes to the man and stared at him, trying to recall him. "Eng…land?"

"Well, I represent all of Britain at these such-"

"You've gotten much older. You were about my age."

England chuckled a little. "Vastly different histories, I suppose?"

The boy looked down at his lap. "Yeah… I don't know your history. I guess you managed okay. Congratulations."

Feeling as if he had hurt the boy, England quickly fell back to the awkward silence.

It wasn't much longer until another man broke in, standing up to lean across the table as far as he could, squinting slightly at the boy who suddenly felt like the center of the universe, an uncomfortable feeling. This man had white hair and a loud voice, though he tried to quieten himself. "Iceland? I don't remember you looking like me."

"I…I don't know what you mean…" he shyly replied.

"Well…I mean albino. I dunno, maybe my memory's just going on me."

"I don't know who you are."

"Prussia… actually, you would probably remember me as the Teutonic Knights."

"…Oh yes. One of the Germans. Uh… Prussia, you were younger than me. I guess that means you did better also." He ran a hand through some of his hair, pulling it down into his own line of vision. "I'm not an albino…really. I think my coloring got messed up in…well, it got messed up. But it's not as colorless as you."

Remembering how he had been picked on for so long over his albinism, Prussia added a comment to the boy, ignoring the boy's gaunt and malnourished figure. "Hey, you look great, awesome really. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Okay…"

Suddenly, a new voice butted in. "Wait, aren't you the one who caused 'the year with no summer' and all those famines?" It came from a short, blond man with an angry expression.

"I…" Iceland started, startled by the words, before he was cut off by another voice.

"Don't bring that up now, Switzerland!" It was Norway, who had risen from his seat in a burst of anger. "That's cruel, I won't allow you to treat my little…er, Iceland like that!"

Iceland covered his face with his hands, trying to hide the tears, as Denmark quickly tried to comfort him, holding him gently. As soon as Norway snapped from his glaring, he flew to his brother as well, still sending the occasional scowl at random people around the room. Within a few minutes, Iceland pulled himself back together and pushed away the two men. Crossing his arms on the table, he sunk down to rest his chin in them, morosely glancing back and forth at all the faces.

"Well…" a voice finally spoke out of the quiet, "I, the United States, will recognize Iceland as an independent nation."

Murmurs of agreement followed from different parts of the room. Silence again fell as everyone that had something to say, said it, but the silence didn't last long as Denmark spoke one last time.

"Thank you all for coming, once again. I hope peace will finally find its place, both with you all and between Iceland and myself. It's been a long time coming." With that, he gathered his papers and stood back to leave the room.

Iceland rose to follow him, but was delayed by the insistent well-wishes of the others. He had made it just out the door when a touch on the shoulder stopped him. He turned to meet another of the faces he knew he had never seen before.

"Hey, Iceland…" the unknown spoke. He wore an unnerving grin and radiated with enthusiasm that felt overbearing to the shorter teen. "I've heard about you, it's great to actually meet you! I'm America," and he jutted out a hand to shake.

Iceland cautiously shook his hand, then replied, "Where exactly is that? I'm sorry, I've been out of everything for so long."

"Not a prob! You see, if over here is Europe," he made hand motions to illustrate his point, "and right here is the Atlantic, then my place is over here. You're over here, right?"

"Over here," he copied the motions in the correct place on the invisible map. "So you're near Vinland? How big is your country?"

"It's like, thiiiiis big. What's a Vinland?"

"It was a settlement we had there. I believe they said we were the first Europeans on the continent?"

"Oh! In Canada somewhere? I always thought that was Norway! Was it you?"

"Yes. The settlement disappeared. What's Canada?"

"Canada's right up here, above me. He's my brother. This is so cool! It's almost like you're my family!"

Iceland was getting uncomfortable again with the other and began to try to slip away from him. Besides, where had Denmark gone? Right as he was about to dart, America spoke up again.

"Hey, you said you were England's age…and you said about the settlement…but you're still so small. Why? I know I grew very fast, so I look older, but I still don't get it."

"I haven't been free since 1264… Even so, we were isolated and cut off. I couldn't grow."

"But you're not only young, you're…tiny…and skinny. Why? I saw you start to cry when they mentioned that…I won't talk about it. What happened to you?"

"Uh…" his whole body slumped and he frowned. "I was kind of forgotten, and left to the hands of merchants. Between man-made famines and epidemics that wouldn't go away in such a small place…and then there was that… All that wouldn't have happened if they had left me alone. I could have taken care of myself."

"Man, I'm sorry, Iceland. I see why you want to be free. Hey, I'm a hero, I'll keep you in mind, okay? I'll definitely help you out, okay? As soon as there's a chance, go for it. I'll back you up."

"Okay…"

"Say, how old are you exactly?"

"One thousand, forty-four by my birth. But the country was formed in 930."

America's face showed his mental calculations. "Okay… Good luck, Iceland! See you!

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**A/N: I wrote this on a whim, and although it was supposed to fit into a later chapter of my story "Brennt Barn Forðast Eldinn", I decided it didn't really fit with where I wanted to go with that, so I'm posting it separately. Some of the references I make in here, I don't really want to explain any farther, if you guys are interested by my characterization of Iceland, please check out that story. I have a different view of Iceland than most of what I've seen in the fandom and I'm slowly writing that out through that story. I'm only on the first chapter so far, but please look at it. I suppose this story is a supplement to part I haven't written yet for it.  
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**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed~ /subliminal messaging/ review please! /subliminal messaging/  
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**~Butter~  
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